


the hands of time

by malignance



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), The Muppets - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Other, except this is bound to become reality soon enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malignance/pseuds/malignance
Summary: sometimes there's a family tradition that just cannot be escaped.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frigCal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frigCal/gifts).



there’s a silence throughout the house, something not entirely strange, but unusual at this time of the afternoon. timrek takes the opportunity to attempt to sneak out, his bag in one hand and phone in the other, but before he can even reach the door a loud cough slices through the quiet and he freezes. he would recognise that voice anywhere. in any other circumstance it wouldn’t draw too much of a reaction out of him, but right now, right now it makes his blood run cold.

“where do you think you’re going?”

timrek swallows slowly and turns around to face the source of the voice, his mother. his mother looks stern, hands on his hips, green apron on, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“uh, nowhere, momhao.”

momhao obviously doesn’t buy it, but doesn’t push the issue, instead, much to timrek’s dread, he points to the clock.

“please,” timrek begs, “please no.”

momhao shakes his head. “you know you have to do this, son.”

timrek feels completely overcome with hopelessness. of course, the silence was too good to be true, the opportunity for escape was too true. he could never escape this house, his mother, his father. “okay.” timrek sighs, in utter defeat. he lets his bag fall to the floor, his phone slowly following. momhao watches in with a certain gleam in his eyes. timrek hates this part, the judgement, like he might disappoint him somehow.

the clock strikes 4:20, an alarm sounds loudly through the room. tears slowly leave timrek’s eyes as he lifts both his hands up, and dabs. momhao nods her head in approval, but timrek just knows there will be something to fix for tomorrow, and then the day after day, and the day after that, until his arms fall off just like older brother before him.


	2. ii.

_november 5th ( two years ago )._

there’s not much of this world to love, he thinks to himself. his arms, more and more sore as the days pass. his mother, more and more overbearing. his father, more and more suffocating. thankfully he had one thing he could truly be thankful for, one thing he could truly love. his younger brother, so young and naive still. but he knows he doesn’t have much time left, and that when he’s gone, his younger brother will have to fill in his place, and be put through the exact same hell.

* BEEP BEEP * that alarm. the warning, the forboding feeling of darkness and pain. he can’t do this anymore, but pushes through anyway. he makes his way to the living room where his father is waiting for him, one green leg crossed over the other on the couch. but his father does not smile like he usually does. he knows what this means. what the look on his eyes mean.

“father.”

“sonhao. you know what to do.”

he almost whimpers, just at the thought of what is to follow. but he cannot show any weakness, not in front of the strongest man he knows. the man he loves yet despises at the same time. slowly, as the same familiar voice singing “blow me like a flute” rings through the house, sonhao lifts his arms and dabs. hard. too hard.

pain. blinding pain. it’s all he can feel as his eyes water and one by one his arms fall from their sockets onto the ground. the last thing he hears before he loses consciousness is the sound of his father, kermit, laughing that same laugh he does. the one that stays with him in his nightmares.

sonhao wakes up in the year 420, dazed, confused, with no arms. “remember your mission.” his father’s voice rings in his head. he finds a child, no younger than eight, looking confused. sonhao greets him and smiles. he knows what he needs to do.

**“hey kid, have you heard of _dabbing?_ ”**


End file.
